


Naked Time

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8064007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: "Broken Bow" post-ep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Comment: Tip of the hat to TOS for the title.  


* * *

After the Suliban Silik leaves... 

Later that next day ...

"Come in."

The door slid open and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stepped in, padd in hand. The door slid shut and he stood quietly, staring at his captain who was sitting at his desk.

"Are you busy?" he asked quietly.

"No," Jonathan said, smiling slightly. "Have a seat."

Malcolm walked to the chair nearby and sat, placing the padd in front of Archer. 

"Here is my report."

Archer nodded and picked it up, glancing at the data contained therein. He put it down and leaned back, flinching as he stretched his tired body, his wound still sore.

"Still hurts?" Malcolm asked, his intense gaze taking inventory of Archer.

"Only when I laugh," he replied, chuckling tiredly.

"You need a back rub."

"I could use one, sure," Jonathan replied. "Are you volunteering?"

Malcolm grinned. "Absolutely."

"Can I get you anything?" Archer asked absently.

"No. But you can unburden yourself on me, you know. I am trustworthy, or so I've been told," he replied dryly. 

"So I've heard," Jonathan replied. He reached over and took Malcolm's hand, squeezing it hard. "This is so strange, I don't know where to begin."

"I can't imagine why. After all, I *did* see you walk through a bulkhead."

Jonathan nodded, grinning ruefully. "That was the strangest sensation."

"Too bad you lost the device," Malcolm said, rising and walking to stand behind Archer. He began to massage the older man's shoulders, feeling with his fingers the tension that he held. Archer groaned, closing his eyes against the pleasure of the gesture. 

"That feels so good," he said. 

"I'm glad." Malcolm worked on the knotted muscles, feeling Jonathan relaxing slowing under his touch. "You're excessively needy right now. Care to unburden?"

Archer sighed deeply. "This one is so strange, Malcolm. I don't know if I did right or wrong."

"I hate temporal business. I don't think its fair that they hold all the cards. All they can do is manipulate you and you have to guess if you're right or wrong. It's not fair."

Archer grinned and nodded. "Yeah." He was silent a moment and then he gripped Malcolm's hand, pulling him around and nudging him toward the chair. The younger man sat, waiting with patience as Archer tried to gather his thoughts.

"We could have disrupted the next thousand years," he began. "*I* could have disrupted the next millennium."

"How can you know? How can it be your fault?" Malcolm asked gently. "Jonathan, you did what you thought was right. What more can you do?"

"That would be cold comfort to anyone who has to suffer for something I did or didn't do."

Malcolm stared at him. "You're an honorable man. You did the thing that was right. It's up to the future to decide if it was or not. If it wasn't, they can come back. I suppose."

"I don't know," Jonathan replied, grinning slightly. "I wouldn't want that kind of power. When he told me what he was and where he had come from I felt a chill. I felt that I was looking into the abyss."

Malcolm nodded. "You should have seen yourself going through the bulkhead."

He snorted and grinned, nodding. "No one should have that much power, Malcolm. No one. No one should be able to play god with people and their lives. This part of things is frightening and here we are, making our way and maybe I've wiped out the future, *someone's* future. How can I know?"

"That's the merciful part, Jonathan," Malcolm said, leaning forward and putting a hand on Archer's knee. He squeezed it comfortingly. "You won't know. How could you have that kind of responsibility? Who knows that this isn't the way it's supposed to be?"

"I can't," Jonathan agreed. "I can't know. All I can hope for is that it all went the way it was supposed to. A man died on this ship. A man who asked me to trust him. We had no information, no way of verification. I had to make a decision."

"And you did."

"But what if I was wrong?"

Malcolm sat back, considering the anguish in Jonathan's voice. "You aren't god. You're one good man and you made a decision that had to be made. Only the two of them knows what it's all about. They didn't deign to tell us. We just have to pick up the pieces and muddle on. Maybe that will be a part of our journey here that we just have to accept without too much analysis." He leaned forward and rested his hand on Jonathan's knee once more. "The analysis will drive you mad."

Jonathan reached out and took Malcolm's face into his hands, kissing him on the lips long and well. Sitting back, he smiled. "You're good for me."

"I know," Malcolm said, sitting back with a slight smile. 

"I have to write a report. I don't quite know what to say."

"Say what happened. Space is going to be strange. We have to accept that we don't know half of one percent of what we need to know. Maybe that's all we can do."

Jonathan nodded. "Everyday we increase what we know, make new friends, find new questions to ask ... it's what I trained for since I was a kid. I just don't want to think that I did something to change history."

Malcolm smiled, shaking his head. "You did that when you agreed to captain this ship."

Jonathan grinned broadly, some of the tension easing a bit. "That's true."

"Truer words never spoken," Malcolm replied in his economical way. "You need to get this down and sent. You need to accept that this manipulation was out of your hands before they even came here."

"I don't like being a pawn," Jonathan replied, his voice dark with anger.

"I know," Malcolm replied gently. "Sometimes we're going to be I'm afraid."

"Not anymore," Jonathan replied with determination. "Not if I can help it."

"Then assume you did," Malcolm suggested. "Assume it went the way it was supposed to."

Jonathan grinned and shrugged, slumping back in his chair tiredly. "I suppose so."

Malcolm grinned. "Good."

"Porthos knew the Suliban was in the room before I did. He's one damned smart dog."

"I think so," Malcolm replied, rising. "Are you hungry?"

Archer rubbed his eyes and rose. "Yeah. Actually, I think I am."

Malcolm nodded and they turned, walking from the room together. The door closed and the room was silent, the small alien clock on the table moving nearly imperceptibly along. A half written report lay on the table beside it, a complicated story of murder, time travel and uncertainty. It would be studied in Star Fleet Academy for generations to come. But that is another story ...


End file.
